Peter, than whom there is no higher human authority, says (1 Peter 2:24): "Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness; by whose stripes ye were healed."
John, the Beloved, speaks as clearly on this subject (John 3:16-17): "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him, should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved." Paul was equally emphatic; he says (1 Cor. 2:2): "For I determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ and him crucified." And again (1 Cor. 1:30): "But of him are ye in Christ Jesus who of God is made unto us wisdom and righteousness, and sanctification and redemption."
But we have higher authority still—we have the words of Christ Himself. At the last supper, with His disciples about Him, He spoke of His blood being "shed for many for the remission of sins."
It is the story of His sacrifice for others—of His blood shed that the world might through Him find forgiveness—that has been understood by the unlettered as well as by scholars and has brought millions to the foot of the cross. Even those who have not been in position to compare His code of morals with the teachings of others have been able to comprehend a plan of salvation by which one died for all and all find forgiveness in His sacrifice. It is this Gospel that has made it possible for the forgiven sinner to go forth to begin a new life, no longer under conviction of sin and remembering his past only as an incentive to service.
The presence of Judas at the Last Supper has been the cause of much speculation throughout the centuries. The indignation of Christians is stirred at the thought of a traitor being present on this solemn occasion when Christ instituted one of the great sacraments of the Church. The Saviour not only knew what Judas was about to do but called attention to it and designated the guilty one, but there was no appearance of the anger which would be natural in a mortal; He knew the plan of salvation.
But why should the betrayal have come from one of the twelve? It is not necessary to find a satisfactory answer to all the questions that may arise from the reading of the Bible, and the finite mind should not be discouraged if it fails to fathom the reasons of the Infinite Intelligence. If there are mysteries in the Bible that we cannot unravel they are not greater than the mysteries in nature with which we must deal whether we understand them or not.
But I venture to suggest one effect, produced by the fact that one of the twelve proved a traitor, namely, the scrutiny that it has compelled millions of Christians to turn upon themselves. "Lord, is it I?" each of the disciples anxiously inquired. Even Judas himself, coerced by the action of the others, asked, "Master, is it I?" So, to-day, there is real betrayal of the Saviour by some who take His name upon them and before the world profess to be His followers. If Judas had been an outsider and had sold for money the knowledge he had gained as a looker-on his name would not have become, as the name of Judas has, a synonym for all that is base and contemptible; and the Christian world would have been without the benefit of that glaring act of perfidy that has sounded its warning through nineteen centuries. Judas sold the Saviour for money, just as many a professing Christian since then has, for money, betrayed the Master. Who will calculate the restraint that that one question, "Lord, is it I?" has exerted upon Christ's followers in the hour when some great temptation has made the believer hesitate upon the brink of sin?
I will not attempt to enumerate all the ways in which Christ has and can bless mankind, but the living spring has taught me one way. The spring is the best illustration of the Christian life, just as a stagnant pool is the best illustration of a selfish life. The pool receives but gives forth nothing in return and, at last, becomes the center of disease and death. There is nothing more repulsive than the stagnant pool except a life built upon that plan. The spring, on the other hand, pours forth constantly of that which refreshes and invigorates and asks for nothing. There is nothing more inspiring than a living spring except the life that it resembles.
And why is the spring a spring? Because it is connected with a source that is higher than itself. Christ brings man into such vital, living contact with God that the goodness of God flows out to the world through him. The frailest human being can thus become of inestimable value to society. It is only spiritual power, received from above, that counts largely. If we measure man in units of physical power he is not much above the beasts; if we measure him in units of intellectual power we soon reach his limitations, but when we measure him in units of spiritual power his strength may be beyond human calculations. If, as was the case in Wales, the prayer of a little girl could start a revival that spread over that country, resulting in the conversion of thousands, what can a life accomplish if one's heart is full of love to God and man?
The wisdom of Christ could not have been supplied by others; there were none to supply it. There was no source but the inexhaustible fountain of the Almighty from which to draw that which He gave forth "as one having authority." "Who among His Apostles or proselytes," asks John Stuart Mill, "was capable of inventing the sayings ascribed to Jesus or of imagining the life and character revealed in the Gospels?"